Your guide

A man with shoulder-length hair and a mustache, wearing a black jacket and jeans, squatting outdoors in a desert landscape with red rock formations in the background.

Jannes Cuyvers

“my Kyrgzy friends call me Jakke”

I first traveled to Kyrgyzstan back in 2020. The pandemic was in full swing and almost every country had closed its borders to travelers—except for one little-known nation in Central Asia. As soon as I heard that Kyrgyzstan was open, I booked a flight.

Once I arrived, I quickly fell in love with its remote landscapes, strong horse culture, and incredibly hospitable people. I kept returning, made more and more Kyrgyz friends, and before I knew it, I had bought a horse. That changed everything for me.

Traveling alone on horseback through endless mountains was life-changing. The sense of freedom was unmatched: no fences, no private property signs—just vast open country. I could ride wherever I wanted. Nomads often invited me into their yurts when they saw me passing by on my horse, and through those encounters I learned so much about the Kyrgyz way of life. I even learned to play Kok Boru, the national sport—imagine polo, but played with a goat carcass.

I also became very close to one particular family, the Mirbekovs. They take care of my horse Ayu when I’m away and treat me like a son. Fast forward to today: I work with them on all my horse treks, and I proudly bring each of my groups to their yurt camp so you can get to know this amazing local family too.

A person riding a galloping horse near a body of water with mountains in the background, a dog running nearby.
Group of five people and a horse outside a traditional white yurt with decorative patterns, set on a grassy field with rolling hills and cloudy sky in the background.